The Kristoloid
by SometimesEvelyn
Summary: The followers of Diana and Phoebus are competing to resurrect their patron gods. One man, Kris Kristolos, becomes caught in the crossfire between the two factions.
1. A Summoning To Start

Kristoloid: Chapter 1: A Summoning To Start

rant 

thanks for taking the time to read this. it means a lot to me. please review? bonus points if you can name the title reference.

/rant 

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"It is time," spoke the chief priestess of the Dianaids. The sun danced in and out of view along the rim of the oak grove that encircled the twenty-four priestesses, clad only in floral visage. The sacred oak branch atop the altar to Diana began to smoke, and its fragrance rose high up into the dusk air. Each of the twenty-four priestesses present knelt down and breathed deeply and began to pray for Diana's speedy descent.

At the same time, in a palm oasis far far away, the chief priest of the Delians spoke the same words and initiated a similar ceremony. Both of these rituals had a similar yet polar purpose, and each was totally unaware of the other, for the Dianaids were the followers of Diana, the moon goddess, and the Delians were enamored with Phoebus, Diana's brother and god of the sun. Each faction had attempted to bring its governing spirit to Earth, and each faction was succeeding admirably. The only thing left to do, in fact, was to find a suitable host.

Now, a host couldn't just be any old person. A host had to be descended from the bloodline of Phoebus and Diana, which, after two-thousand years, was quite rare. In fact, only one suitable candidate existed in the entire world. And it was his extreme misfortune that both summoning ceremonies finished at the same time; the priests and priestesses of their associated cults shivered collectively in anticipation.

Kris Krtistolos, twenty-three, male, professional Greek distance runner, was experiencing the most tranquil sleep of his life. Usually his dreams were fraught with interruptions and paranoia, but on this summer night he was dreaming that he was on fire at the bottom of the ocean. And the effect was most relaxing. Soon a chariot, towed by a white stag, appeared and he felt compelled to entire. The stag leapt through the atmosphere in a bound, and brought him to face the moon. The moon did not speak, but he could understand it. The moon was telling him that he was the moon and that the moon was him. That made Kris happy. But then night gave way to day, and he was now facing the sun. The sun touched him with its rays, and he knew that the moon was wrong, that he was in fact one with the sun. The moon appeared again, but in the same sky as the sun. Kris was confused. He didn't know who to believe. He began to sweat. Kris didn't like this; he wanted out. He began to run away, but he became trapped in the orbit of the celestial bodies. And then he couldn't breathe, and he hurtled through space, asphyxiating, unable to stop, spinning, twisting, crashing, hurting--

-- Kris woke with a start to find he was drenched in warm sweat. He glanced at his alarm clock: 3:45. The worst. He was too tired to shower, but too awake to fall asleep immediately. He rolled onto his chest -- and gasped. A soft, delicate, and from the feel, quite sizable, presence on his upper torso prevented his complete turn. He groped around in the dark and gasped again, louder, as he discovered that his nipples were now much more sensitive. He smacked the light switch and gaped in horror as the damning light revealed his worst fears: he had breasts. Breasts which were certainly not there the night before. As he stared at his reflection in the mirror, he noticed other changes: his hair, previously a short mens cut, was now past shoulder-length in length, and was the lightest shade of blue, almost white. His cheekbones were now slightly higher set, and his shoulders were slimmer. In grim anticipation, he thrust his hand into his boxers, fearing the worst. A sigh of relief escaped him when he felt nothing but his familiar instrument. Apparently, other than the hair, the cheeks, the shoulders, and the breasts, nothing had changed. Now Kris was thoroughly confused.  
"What am I? What happened"  
But no answer greeted him.  
There was only silence as he fainted onto his bed out of shock.  
His new breasts gently rose and fell with his breathing.


	2. A New Life

Kristoloid: Chapter 2: A New Life

rant 

so here's chapter 2. i'm pretty sure i don't need to put in a disclaimer, but just in case: i don't own mythology! there ya go. this chapter was written while listening to: shine on you crazy diamond by pink floyd.

/rant 

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The first thought Kris had when he woke up was that he had wet himself during the night. But as he looked around, he realized that he wasn't covered in urine, but was floating in a pool. Naked. Panicking, Kris flailed his arms and legs about, succeeding only in downing lungful after lungful of water. Not more than twenty feet away from him stood a stoic, frowning middle-aged woman, obviously unamused by his antics.

"Stop that childish splashing", she intoned harshly, with the air of a strict schoolteacher.

"Huh?" Kris whipped his head around, spewing out great gobs of water. He had no idea where he was, or who his observer could be, yet he was strangely unafraid. Cold, but unafraid. This woman felt almost... familiar.

The woman with the forbidding face walked calmly over to the side of the pool, grabbed Kris's hand, and pulled him out of the water with unexpected ease. As Kris lay gasping for breath, he took a moment to survey his surroundings. His first impression was that of a hospital, for the walls were colored a sterile white and the entire room reverberated with an aura of cleanliness. Upon closer inspection, however, he decided that the chamber was closer to a temple than to a hospital, due to its complete lack of nurses, orderlies, staff, and all medical equipment.

"Your situation is unprecedented, but we believe it will suffice," the woman told Kris, handing him a towel.

"My situation? What..." Kris was about to ask, but then the events of last night came rushing back to him. He grabbed his chest and his hair and he screamed.

"Calm down, you fool. What's done is done; it cannot be changed. I suspect that the Delians, damn them, were able to match our attempts at finding a host exactly"

"A host? What the hell are you talking about"

"A host for the goddess, Diana. She is our mother, and your body was to be her host. You see, I am Daphne, chief priestess of the Dianaids, the last worshipers of Diana. And you, I am told, are the last remaining descendant of her. Only a blood relative can be used as an avatar"

"An... avatar? Is that what I have become?", Kris asked softly.

"Not quite. If you had indeed become an avatar of Diana, your body would now be entirely female, just as Diana's was. The reason for your partial transformation, I suspect, is because of the interference of the Delians. Those cultists will go to no end to summon Phoebus, their guiding spirit. They must have attempted to install Phoebus in your body at the same time we tried to install Diana. And the result is thus.", she completed matter-of-factly.

Kris felt many emotions, the most prominent among them being anger.

"How could you do this!? Why!? I feel... violated! This is my body! What right do you have to it!?", he snapped.

To Kris's surprise, however, Daphne merely smiled and beckoned, "All of that will be explained in due time. First we must find you some clothes. I admit, that will be hard, as all Delians are entirely female. A male in Diana's temple is... unheard of. Come"

And Kris's anger gave way to confusion, curiosity, and more confusion, and he followed her across the gleaming white room, clutching his towel tightly.


	3. Slight Wardrobe Changes

Kristoloid: Chapter 3: Slight Wardrobe Changes

rant 

the lack of indenting is really bothering me. i wish would implement it. i was considering giving kris a skimpier outfit, but decided to give with practicality over fashion. don't worry, the uses of his new clothes will be explained later. i wrote this chapter while listening to: a night at the opera by queen.

/rant 

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Daphne led Kris outside of the pool-room, down a hallway, and through a white door. Inside the door was what appeared to be a walk-in closet. Hundreds of identical outfits hung on hangars that lined the walls of the room. Daphne walked right past all of these and approached a pedestal in the center of the room.

"Here is what you will wear. It has been passed down by Diana's own hand-maidens from generations upon nigh." Daphne said, picking up a handful of gossamer fabrics.

Kris saw that the clothing was the same pale shade of blue as his hair. "Wow," he mused. "She really was telling the truth…"

Daphne handed Kris the outfit, and he instantly dropped his jaw in horror. In his hand were a chain-mail bustier, two leather gauntlets, a horsehide belt, two thongs, and a long, flowing cloak. "I can't wear this!" he moaned. "No way!"

"You _must_ wear this. You have no choice."

And for the first time in her presence, Kris felt frightened of Daphne. Her eyes twinkled threateningly and her mouth quivered. "If not, you will not leave here."

Leave here. Kris hadn't thought about that. What would he do with his life now that he was half-goddess? He would have to start over, under a new name, far away. Maybe Italy; he had always been attracted to Tuscany. Kris sighed. This was so much trouble. He was tired, and confused, and just wanted to go home and sleep his cares away. He grudgingly took the clothes offered to him.

"I will leave you in privacy. You have five minutes," Daphne informed him as she stepped outside.

Kris laid the clothes on the floor, shaking his head. He was still wearing only a towel, so he had no clothes to undress. Surveying his new wares, Kris noticed that one thong was smaller than the other. Evidently, they were meant to be worn at the same time. He bucked up his courage and stepped into the smaller undergarment, wincing slightly at the pressure caused by his still-attached manhood. Without pausing, he then pulled on the second, slight larger, one. It fit perfectly snug over his hips. He looked down and saw that there was a noticeable bulge. Oh well, he thought. The cloak will cover it and no one will know. He then set about putting on the bustier. It was held via elegant lace ties on the front, and Kris nearly used up the remainder of his five minutes threading the lace and tying it tightly. He was surprised at how well the flexible metal cups held his bust. He stood up and jogged in place, and was satisfied at the support the bustier provided. No jiggling would happen here. He draped the pale blue cloak over himself, buckled the horsehide belt around his waist, and was just fastening the leather gauntlets when Daphne returned, carrying a large black case.

"Excellent. You certainly look the part. Now you are ready for your task."

"My… task? What?"

"Why, surely you didn't that all of this attention and hoopla had no purpose?"

"Well… I thought that you just wanted to take care of me until I got my feet on the ground."

Daphne smile a wry, knowing smile. "Oh no. Oh no no no!"


End file.
